black eyes of Ammalát, which were intently fixed on her. They seemed to say--"Hide not thyself; star of my soul!" as they drank health and consolation from her glances. She knew not what was passing within her; she could not distinguish whether she was on the earth, or floating in the air; changing colours flitted on her face. At length she ventured, in a trembling voice, to ask him about his health. One must be a Tartar--who accounts it a sin and an offence to speak a word to a strange woman, who never sees any thing female but the veil and the eye-brows--to conceive how deeply agitated was the ardent Bek, by the looks and words of the beautiful girl addressed so tenderly to him. A soft flame ran through his heart, notwithstanding his weakness. "Oh, I am very well, now," he answered, endeavouring to rise; "so well, that I am ready to die, Seltanetta." "Allah sakhla-sün!" (God protect you!) she replied. "Live, live long! Would you not regret life?" "At a sweet moment sweet is death, Seltanetta! But if I live a hundred years, a more delightful moment than this can never be found!" Seltanetta did not understand the words of the stranger; but she understood his look--she understood the expression of his voice. She blushed yet more deeply; and, making a sign with her hand that he should repose, disappeared from the chamber. Among the mountaineers there are many very skilful surgeons, chiefly in cases of wounds and fractures; but Ammalát, more than by herb or plaster, was cured by the presence of the charming mountain-maid. With the agreeable hope of seeing her in his dreams, he fell asleep, and awoke with joy, knowing that he should meet her in reality. His strength rapidly returned, and with his strength grew his attachment to Seltanetta.